


Not Just A River

by stealing_your_kittens



Series: Denial [1]
Category: Yonderland (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:13:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25458349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stealing_your_kittens/pseuds/stealing_your_kittens
Summary: Debbie's trapped in a cell. So is Negatus. She's trying not to think about a few things. He’s not helping with that.
Relationships: Debbie Maddox/Negatus
Series: Denial [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854490
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	Not Just A River

“When that elf finally shows up, I’m going to kill him."

“Hang on, it’s not entirely his fault. He’s allergic to jaffa cakes, he had to go back for his injections.”

Well, Debbie had made him go back for his medicine when the grand opening party of the suspicious new fromagerie had been serving a selection of pastries that included said allergen. It was only a little bit Elf’s fault for falling prey to temptation. Again.

Could anyone really blame her for assuming they’d be alright split up for a few minutes? Even if that _did_ rarely end well, she still had her morally grey back-up.

“Not him. Cheese head out there. Turn him into fondue.”

Oh. The suspicious owner, who was apparently selling an irresistible new cheese. “Irresistible,” here having the meaning of “laced with a mind-control potion,” judging by the fact that anyone who’d tried any samples leading up to today had a weird habit of calling him Master.

“No."

“But-”

Negatus huffed like a petulant child and gestured down toward his lap. He was sitting with his too-long legs crossed straight out in front, Debbie’s own thrown across them in order to elevate her right ankle. Which was currently twice its normal size and turning an alarming shade of purple.

Things had gotten a bit out of hand after Elf left; Debbie and Negatus proving to be no match for a room full of mind-controlled minions. Debbie’s ankle had been wrenched quite badly in the ensuing scuffle before they were summarily thrown in the tiny cell beneath the store. Because _of course_ there was one.

With barely enough room for both of them in the first place, making their current seating arrangement cosier than she was entirely comfortable with. And, no, she hadn’t been staring at the tattoo on his left arm, on display after he’d politely offered his coat for her to sit on in place of the damp stone floor. 

Or, rather, he’d grumbled about the supposed heat, taken the coat off, shrugged and said she could use it if she wanted to. Or whatever. No pressure.

It was endearingly awkward.

But she still wasn't staring. Even if he _did_ have very nice arms. 

She steered her mind back down a safer path. It had just been awhile since she’d had so much as a decent snog, that was all, what with Pete living three streets down, now, so as not to uproot the twins too badly after the divorce.

And that was enough of those thoughts. Thank you.

“No. It’s just a sprain. I think. Not worth a murder.”

“But, if it's broken...” he tried. 

“No, James,” she said with a gentle sternness. "He wasn't even the one who did it." 

Debbie was one of the few people with both permission and the desire to use his first name. _Negatus_ was the name of an evil overlord who’d tried to kill her more than once. _James_ was her occasionally bumbling --but well-meaning- friend who was doing his best.

"Well, when I find out who _did_ -"

She acted without entirely conscious thought; leaning forward enough to lay her hand over one of his, at rest on her shins as if it were the most normal thing in the world for him to touch her. Lately, it _was_. Another thing she didn't want to think about. 

“I said _no_. Don’t go killing _anyone_ on my account.”

Sweet of him to offer, though. Wait. NO! It wasn't. Stop that right now, Debbie! 

There was still a trace of mutiny on his face. What she did next was admittedly deliberate. Possibly a bit manipulative, given how he tended to fawn all over her when certain words were used, like “proud,” or “good job.”

“Be good, okay,” she asked, squeezing the hand she still held. “For me?”

That did it. The resistance melted into an adoring, heavy-lidded expression that made her feel entirely too warm. Brought up those guilty imaginings she only took out late at night, where she said things like “Be a good boy, James,” and he fell all over himself to do _anything_ she asked.

Oh, _hell_.

**Author's Note:**

> Funny thing about the tattoo. He has it at the end of season 2, but never before and never after. Headcanon that this absolute fucking DORK got a temporary tattoo when Imperatrix kicked him out, like a rebellious teenager wanting to show how grown up he is. He clearly got a real one, later, though, as per here. (This is just me fixing their continuity error.)


End file.
